


Opening Ceremony

by margdean56



Series: Great Water Holt Stories [2]
Category: Elfquest, The Monkees
Genre: Friendship, Gang of Four, Gen, Great Water Holt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-07
Updated: 2012-09-07
Packaged: 2017-11-13 17:33:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/506001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/margdean56/pseuds/margdean56
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An unusual foursome of elves tell how they got together.  Frame story set at Great Water Holt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Opening Ceremony

**Author's Note:**

> Clone elves ... Great Water Holt was lousy with them. By "clones" I mean elf characters who were either their creator or their creator's favorite actor or media personality with pointed ears. So I decided to create some of _my_ vintage ... and found I'd created a monster... But that's a story for another day. This is where it started.

GW 66 LS

**Maybe sending them out on a hunt together wasn't such a great idea after all.**

Windrunner's sending was rueful. BlackTalon, his lifemate and co-chieftain, could only nod as she surveyed the two elves in front of her. Blaze and Lakebreeze were filthy, bruised, ragged, singed, and otherwise the worse for wear. They were also unmistakably furious and neither one would look at the other.

The feud between these two elves had been going on practically from the moment Lakebreeze arrived in Great Water Holt to rejoin BlackTalon's tribe. Resistant already to the idea of the two tribes becoming one, the treeshaper had not taken at all kindly to the young firemaker's pranks and his loud mouth. Blaze in turn resented Lakebreeze's stubborn refusal to acknowledge Windrunner as his chief. The quarrel had come to a head nearly a turn of the seasons ago, when Blaze sounded off once too often and found himself hanging upside down from a tree, wrapped in vines from head to toe. Since then the relationship had gone steadily downhill, a constant, irritating reminder of the continuing friction between Windrunner's tribe and BlackTalon's.

Finally the two chieftains decided it was time to intervene. Windrunner suggested that a hunting trip might be a good way to get the two elves to work together, and in the process learn to know each other better. Being teamed up on scouting expeditions, he pointed out, had done wonders for Seahawk and Darkstrider. BlackTalon concurred. With difficulty she got the treeshaper to agree to the expedition, while Windrunner tackled Blaze. Right now it didn't look as if it had been worth the trouble.

"All right—what happened?" BlackTalon folded her arms and gazed sternly at each of the two in turn. "I know you two too well to think it was something as simple as a rogue bear or a pack of renegade trolls. Come on... High Ones help me, I want to know every grisly detail."

Predictably, Blaze spoke first. "It wasn't _my_ fault. I was _trying_ to be friendly. I was telling Lakebreeze all about where the best trails are and where we could find a good camping place, and..."

Windrunner's head sank into his hands. Terrific. That would be just what Lakebreeze needed to get his back up, being lectured by an elf half his age. Add to that the fact that Blaze always managed to sound insolent even when he wasn't trying to be... "All right," he said, "so you were talking. Then what happened?"

"Well, then we found a goat trail and started looking for a hiding place." The red-haired elf glared at Lakebreeze. "You could have warned me about that bush."

"I did," the treeshaper replied evenly. "I said I would not advise hiding in it."

"You might have said something about the strangleweed!"

"Why should I have? I thought that one who knew the forest so well would surely be aware of it."

Windrunner sighed. "So Blaze crawled into a patch of strangleweed."

"Yes, and _he_ wouldn't help! I could've been throttled, and he just starts strolling off—said if I'd been careless enough to get myself into it, I could get myself out. So I said I would, and—"

"The foolheaded cub started a _fire_!" the treeshaper broke in furiously. "He could have burned down the forest."

"Well, you didn't have to throw dirt all over me!" Blaze yelled.

"There was no water available. What would you have suggested, goat dung?"

"And the strangleweed still hadn't let go—"

"One lesson was not enough to get through his thick head. He started again—"

"And he _hit_ me!" Blaze rubbed his jaw, glaring.

"You must admit," Lakebreeze pointed out, "that I did not leave you in the strangleweed once you were unconscious."

"Thank the High Ones for small favors," Windrunner muttered. "I think."

"Then when I woke up—" Blaze began.

Windrunner held up his hands. "Enough! I don't want to hear any more about it. I'm just glad you both got back in one piece ... more or less."

BlackTalon scowled at the two hunters. "Of all the stupid, irresponsible, _childish_ —yes, I'm talking to both of you! I expect this kind of pointless quarrel from cubs, not from full-grown elves. This trip was supposed to help you settle your differences, learn to make allowances for each other..."

"With all due respect, my chieftess," Lakebreeze interrupted, "I do not believe that is possible. Allowances can be made up to a certain point, but as for 'settling our differences'..." He shook his head. "It cannot be done. We are simply—too different."

"Too different..." BlackTalon paused for a moment, her lips pursed angrily. Then a determined look appeared in her eye. "'Too different,' is it?" She grabbed each of the errant elves by an arm. "Come with me, both of you. There are some elves I want you to meet. They arrived a little while ago." She began to drag Blaze and Lakebreeze after her.

"New elves in the holt? Wanderers?" Blaze asked. "But what does that have to do with—?" The dark chieftess glared at him and he shut up.

Windrunner trotted after them, a bit puzzled himself as to what his lifemate meant until he noticed where they were headed. _Hmm_ , he thought, _it just might work, at that._

The miniature procession made its way across the holt. It drew a few curious stares from variously occupied holt elves, but no audible comments; nobody wanted to risk catching BlackTalon's attention when she had that thundercloud look on her face. Finally it came to a halt near the foot of a large old tree that had very recently, Lakebreeze noted, been shaped into a dwelling.

Seated on an outthrust root near the newly made entrance was a tall, rangy elf in fringed buckskin breeches. A closefitting green cap with a turned-up rim and a round tuft of fur at the top crowned the thick, dark hair that fell in a wave across his forehead. A pile of furs lay on his lap, which he was stitching together into a blanket.

A second elf hung upside down by his knees from a branch of the hometree, peering into a window. He had a bush of dark, curly hair and wore only a brightly striped loincloth. He seemed to be talking to someone inside the tree. "That's right, Halfwise, just loop the rope through that ring in the wall. Can you reach it? Good. Now tie it off... Is the knot secure? Better give it a pull to make sure. I don't want to come crashing down on you in the middle of the— Whoops! Are you all right, little brother?"

"I think so," came a muffled reply from within, then the bewildered plaint, "It came loose."

"Softhead highthing be careful!" shrilled another voice, too high and piercing for an elf. "Let bushytop highthing come tie _own_ hangy-bed!"

 

"No, I'm all right, Flitterleaf. I just... Bugdance, could you send that knot to me again? I don't think I did it right."

"Sure."

"Need any help down there?" came a call from farther up the tree, in a voice whose clipped accents were reminiscent of Tallreed's. A small elf with sleek, dark brown hair and deep brown eyes under heavy dark brows sat on a sturdy limb with his back against the trunk.  
Airwolf was perched a little farther along the limb, talking with him.

"No, that's okay, Heartseeker," the curly-haired elf called back. "We've got everything under control."

The small elf chuckled. "That'll be the day." He was turning back to Airwolf when he spotted the approaching elves. He leaned forward curiously. At the same time the tall elf glanced up from his work.

"Evenin', Chieftess, Windrunner. Uh ... somethin' wrong?" he asked, seeing BlackTalon's expression. "Anythin' we can help with?" His voice had the slow, drawling tones of the plains. He looked doubtfully at Lakebreeze and Blaze. "Those two look like they need a healer."

"What they need is a lesson," said BlackTalon. "I brought them here to meet you and your friends."

The tall elf looked puzzled, but he said, "Sure." He raised his voice slightly. "Bugdance, Heartseeker, you want to come down here? Halfwise, come on out—BlackTalon and Windrunner want us to meet somebody."

"Coming." An elf with straight, sandy hair falling nearly into his eyes stepped out of the door of the hometree and blinked at the newcomers. 

At the same time the curly-haired elf dropped from the tree and landed in front of BlackTalon with a thump. "At your service, beauteous chieftess," he announced with a broad grin and a sweeping bow.

The small elf descended more carefully and stood with hands on hips, looking expectantly at Blaze and Lakebreeze. The tall elf laid aside his work and stood up, so that the four of them were ranged in a line in front of the chieftains and their tribesmembers. A tiny, bright green creature with green and yellow wings fluttered out of the window of the hometree and alighted on the sandy-haired elf's shoulder.

"Blaze, Lakebreeze, I'd like you to meet Longshanks, Bugdance, Halfwise, and Heartseeker," said Windrunner. "Oh, and that's Flitterleaf," he added, indicating the winged creature.

It would be difficult to imagine a more oddly assorted group of elves. Longshanks looked even taller standing than he did sitting, because of his long legs. He topped Bugdance by half a head, and the curly-haired elf was of normal height; he towered over the diminutive Heartseeker. While his companions were tanned to varying degrees, Bugdance's wiry frame looked naturally brown. Halfwise, on the other hand, was noticeably fairer than the other three, with markedly smaller ears. He wore a close-fitting tunic with winglike shoulder pieces and a soft shirt underneath. Around his neck was a heavy band of gold, beautifully and intricately ornamented. The only other jewelry in evidence was Heartseeker's plain gold armlet. The small elf looked the least exceptional of the four to the Great Water and NeverWinter elves, garbed in the fur-trimmed leather of a woodland hunter and wearing a short sword at his belt. Four pairs of brown eyes regarded Blaze and Lakebreeze: Longshanks' frank and open, Bugdance's gleaming with mischief, Halfwise's shyly wondering, Heartseeker's mingling friendliness and challenge.

"This is Blaze," Windrunner continued, gesturing toward the redhaired elf, "and this is Lakebreeze. Blaze is my cousin," he added, "and Lakebreeze is Feather's uncle."

"Hi there." Longshanks gave them a friendly nod.

"Pleased to meet you." Bugdance grinned at Lakebreeze and added, "We've met your niece."

Halfwise offered a shy "Hello," and Flitterleaf shrilled, "Ooo! More highthings! Hello! Hello! Hello!" waving a tiny green hand vigorously. Heartseeker smiled broadly and said, "Hi."

Windrunner turned back to Blaze and Lakebreeze. "These four arrived here while you two were out hunting. They've been traveling together for— How long did you say it was?" he asked Longshanks.

"Oh, a long time," the plains elf replied. "More'n an eight-of-eights, close as I can reckon, almost half again that."

"About a season, then?" Blaze put in.

Longshanks looked at him. "That's turns of the seasons I'm talking about, not days," he informed the firemaker quietly.

"And you're pretty good friends, right?" Windrunner persisted.

Longshanks glanced over at the other three. "You might say that."

"Friends forever!" Bugdance seconded him, flinging his arms out in an all-embracing gesture.

"Well, these two would like to hear how that happened," Windrunner plowed on, "how you four got together. I mean, you're all so—" He threw a look at Lakebreeze. "—different."

A faint gleam of comprehension lit the tall elf's face. "Ah. Uh-huh. Well, that's kind of a long story," he began cautiously.

"Um. If you don't want to talk about it..." Windrunner glanced up at Airwolf, who had drifted down to a lower branch and was listening with interest.

"No, that's all right. We don't mind talking about that," said Longshanks. "I was just going to suggest we make ourselves comfortable, that's all." He glanced into the doorway of the hometree. "We'd invite you all in, but I think it'd be a mite crowded."

"We'll be fine out here," said BlackTalon. She guided Blaze and Lakebreeze to a nearby log and sat them down on either side of her, still gripping each firmly by an arm. Longshanks settled back onto his root, and Windrunner found another. Bugdance swung up on the branch next to Airwolf. Halfwise sat down on the doorstep of the hometree, while Heartseeker leaned against the trunk with folded arms.

"I've always been curious about this myself," Airwolf commented, stretching out along the branch. "Go on, Longshanks."

"Guess it does begin with me," the plains elf said, lacing his fingers around one knee. He glanced up at Bugdance. "'Less you want to tell this part."

"No, you go ahead. I'll let you know if you skip anything important."

"Thanks."

The tall elf's brown eyes grew distant, the tiny lines that framed them smoothed away as they gazed into a time long past and brought it into present memory.

"It was pretty near the end of Longsun..."

* * * *

A drowsy haze lay over the plains. The air was warm and heavy with the scent of dry grass. The late summer sun sank lazily toward evening, glowing orange as it neared the long horizon. Its light threw a barred pattern over the lean form of the dozing elf, striping his long legs with orange and black. The day was drawing to an unhurried close, leaving its warmth behind it to wrap the coming night in forgetful rest.

A stick rattled against the wooden bars of his cage and brought the elf awake with a start. The human who held the stick chuckled. Stooping, he tossed a few strips of dried meat into the cage, then unslung the waterskin he carried and refilled the clay dish in one corner. Longshanks watched him, his legs drawn up out of easy reach of possible prods with the stick. This particular human, the one with the grizzled mustache and two rings in the left ear, wasn't usually given to pestering him in that way, but one never knew. After filling the water dish, the human watched him for a moment longer, then shrugged and walked away.

Only when he was gone did Longshanks reach for the meat, wondering for the eight-times-eighth time why he bothered. It might be simpler to refuse food and let himself die. But he had gone hungry too many times in his life to want to do it by choice. Besides, the humans considered him of some value to them alive. If he didn't eat, they would probably think of a way to force him to do so, and that would be even more unpleasant than starvation.

He gazed at the setting sun as he chewed the strong-flavored meat—goat, he guessed—and considered the passage of time. Hot-time was almost over. That made nearly a season and a half he had been a prisoner of these humans, since they caught him napping by a water hole and hauled him back to their camp. He soon became the prize exhibit in the collection of curiosities that served to spice these humans' trade with other human tribes. Longshanks had fought back at first and made several attempts to escape, but they had all proven futile. Now he only sniffed at the evening breeze, scenting the first traces of the autumn rains in it, and wondered in a detached way if the humans would have sense enough to allow him a fur or two when the cold weather came.

Another human was approaching the cage, a gangly youth with dirty blond hair and a chipped front tooth. Though Longshanks could tell the humans apart easily by now, their odd-sounding names did not stick in his memory, so he had tagged them with names of his own, much as he might other elves. The one who had fed him earlier was Two-Rings, and this one he called Broken-Tooth. No doubt the youth had been told off to watch him. Since his last escape attempt they never left him unguarded long enough for him to worry loose the lashings that held his cage together. The guard had the added duty of keeping an eye on the tent in which the tribe's trade goods were stored, though that was usually necessary only when there was another tribe in the area. That was not so now; the young man looked bored as he settled down with his back against the side of the tent across from Longshanks' cage.

Having finished his meal and taken a drink of water, Longshanks settled down to sleep. He had found it was most comfortable to arrange himself so that the wooden poles forming the cage's bottom ran lengthwise rather than crosswise. It still was not the pleasantest of beds, but he was used to it by now. Sleep hovered nearby. He closed his eyes, reaching for it—

—and abruptly snapped them open again as a sending touched his mind. **Hey! D'you want to get out of there?**

It took all of Longshanks' self-control not to jump visibly. Every muscle in his body went rigid, his brown eyes wide with shock. A sending? Another elf? But there were no others! He was the only one left... He must have imagined it, must have drifted further into sleep than he'd thought and been dreaming. High Ones knew he'd done that often enough in the early days, though it had become rarer recently. But the tone, the mental "voice" of this sending was completely unfamiliar, not one of the too-well-known voices that had troubled his sleep before. _This is it, Myek,_ he told himself. _You're finally losing your grip._

The sending came again. **Hey! Are you asleep?**

It was no dream. He was wide awake this time. Hope and terror surged up in Longshanks like a hidden wellspring to water the parched ground of his spirit. Another elf? He hardly dared believe it, but—oh, High Ones, let it be so! Out of the confusion of his spirit he summoned enough control for a hesitant sending. **Who are you?**

A mental chuckle bubbled through his mind. **I'm me. I'm the one who's going to get you out of that overgrown fish trap, if that's what you want.**

**Yes!** Longshanks was startled by the vehemence of his own reply. His yearning for freedom had been buried long enough for him to lose sight of its depth and intensity.

**Ow! Hey, calm down! Don't split the ol' melon, friend. Just sit tight, and I'll have you out of there in two twitches of a treewee's tail.**

**Where are you?** Longshanks sent, his eyes darting every which way.

**Over here in this bush. About one easy jump from our five-fingered pal with the pimples. Hold still while I take care of him.**

The distinctive whine of a mosquito pierced the summer evening air; at least, that was what it would sound like to a human. Longshanks' keener ears could tell that the sound was a clever imitation. What looked like a hollow grass stem emerged a little way from the bush his would-be rescuer had indicated. There was a soft whuff of air. Broken-Tooth sat up and clapped one hand to his neck with a curse. He glanced around in annoyance, then, seeing nothing, settled back against the wall of the tent. A few moments later he settled farther, his eyes sagging shut. A faint snore issued from his slack mouth.

A crouching form darted from the bush into the open flap of the storage tent. Longshanks only had time to confirm that its shape and size were roughly elfin. He sat up cautiously, keeping his eyes on Broken-Tooth, but the human continued to snore. A slight noise from behind him made Longshanks whip around. The near edge of the storage tent, less than an arm's length from his cage, lifted, and a face poked out from the opening. Brown eyes looked into his from underneath an unruly explosion of dark brown curls that almost hid the large pointed ears. A complexion darker than his own tanned skin, a broad and somewhat flattened nose, and a mouth that stretched into an impossibly wide and manic grin ... it was the most beautiful face Longshanks had ever seen. **Hi there,** the strange elf sent.

**Hi,** Longshanks returned, resisting the impulse to reach out and grab at the other elf to make sure he was solid and real.

**Does this trap of yours have a door on it?** the curly-haired elf asked, wriggling out from under the edge of the tent. He was brown and whip-thin, clad only in a loincloth and sandals. A string around his waist supported a small pouch on one side and a knife on the other. The hollow grass tube was stuck into the loincloth at his hip.

**A what?** Longshanks asked him.

**Never mind.** The other elf scrutinized the cage, fingering the lashings. **All we have to do is unfasten one of these and it should make a big enough hole for you to squeeze out of, don't you think?** He cocked an eye at Longshanks, who nodded. It was what he’d tried to do himself more than once. The other elf peered at the lashings again, then drew his knife and delicately cut one strand of the wrapped rawhide. He began carefully to unwind it.

**What are you doing?** Longshanks sent in surprise. **Why don't you just slice the whole thing?**

Again that manic grin, accompanied by an upraised finger. **Mystification, my friend, mystification. Also known as covering your tracks.** The brown elf started to undo the lashings more swiftly as their pattern became evident. Longshanks turned again to look at the still sleeping Broken-Tooth and to scan the rest of the nearby camp. If one of the humans should happen along just now...

**There, that's done it.** The lashings that held the bottom end of the bar to the floor of the cage were undone. Longshanks grabbed at the bar and both of them wriggled it until it was loose enough to move aside. Longshanks quickly squeezed through the opening. For a moment he crouched beside the other elf, then suddenly stood to his full height and stretched, as he had not been able to do for moons. His joints popped. It felt wonderful.

**Thanks, friend,** he sent, a wealth of inexpressible gratitude behind the simple thought. **Now let's get out of here.**

**Not so fast. Mystification, remember? Go on and crawl under here if you want.** One brown hand lifted the edge of the storage tent. **I'll join you in a moment.**

**What are you going to do?**

**Tie this pole back in place, of course. Can you imagine those five-fingers' faces when they try to figure out how you escaped?** The mental chuckle bubbled through Longshanks' mind once more.

**You're crazy! They might see us. Then we'd both be caught.**

**I may be crazy, but I'm not that easy to catch, friend. If you just keep an eye out for five-fingers, I'll have this done in no time, no time at all.** The quick fingers went to work again. Longshanks crouched beside his rescuer, eyes watchful. Every heartbeat seemed as long as turns.

**No! Here comes Two-Rings!** The mustached human was approaching from the direction of the main tent. Any moment now he would see the empty cage and the game would be up. **We've got to get out of here! Hurry!**

The other elf did not look up from his work, but Longshanks felt a sending burst from him, one he was not privy to. He had one startled moment to wonder if there were more unsuspected elves out there before a small four-legged shape darted out of the bush where his rescuer had hidden and scampered toward Two-Rings, its long tail high in the air. It ran right between the startled human's legs and beyond him into the heart of the camp. Two-Rings stared at it for a moment and then gave chase, shouting something in the human tongue.

**That'll keep 'em occupied for a while.** The curly-haired elf finally finished tying off the lashings and stood up. **Now we can go. Come on.** He grabbed Longshanks' arm and the two elves made a dash for the brush. From there they threaded a quick but cautious path from one hiding place to another until they reached the edge of the humans' camp, well away from the light of their lamps and campfires. It was fully dark by this time, the clear sky spangled with stars. As his companion paused, sending again, Longshanks looked up at the open sky, took a deep breath of the free air, and laughed softly.

An answering laugh came from the other elf. **Feels good, huh? Follow me. We'll swing around toward sun-goes-down and pick up Nosey. Then let's find a place where we can have a rest and a talk. Okay?** He clapped Longshanks on the shoulder. The lanky elf gripped his shoulder in return, a smile spreading across his tanned face.

**Sounds great to me, friend.**

 

They holed up in a brush-filled gully a little after first moonrise. The two elves had exchanged names while they walked and Longshanks learned that his rescuer was called Bugdance. The name puzzled him for a moment until the other elf sent him a picture of a restless, ever-spinning cloud of insects, an apt image for the mercurial personality Longshanks already had a taste of. He also made the acquaintance of Nosey, Bugdance's animal companion. The creature was about the size of a fox, red-brown in color, with a long, ringed tail, small ears, and a long mobile nose it liked to poke into everything.

"So," Bugdance asked when they had settled themselves comfortably in their hiding place and Nosey was curled up in his lap, "how long were you shut up in that thing? How did you get separated from your tribe? Does your tribe live around here? Are there any girls in your tribe?" The dark eyes gleamed mischievously.

Longshanks' hands clenched and he looked down at the ground. "I don't have a tribe. Not anymore. They're all dead."

"Hey, that's tough." There was real sympathy in the light, husky voice. "How did it happen?"

"Prairie fire. It was Gathering time, the end of Hot-time when all the clans come together. I was late getting there. I'd been hunting, wounded an antelope and had a long chase before I could track it down. I was coming back with the meat when I saw the smoke. Luckily there were some rocks near enough that I could reach 'em before the fire did. After the ashes cooled I went back to the camp and found the—bones. It looked like they'd all been asleep. I hunted 'round for a while, but I never found any other survivors. I spent White-time on my own. It was about the middle of New-green when those humans caught me—call it two hands of moons and one. I don't think they'd ever seen an elf before. They thought I was a real oddity." He looked up at Bugdance. "I was beginning to agree with 'em 'fore you showed up. I didn't know there were any other elves in the world. Where did you come from?"

"A long way from here," Bugdance responded. He squinted up at the sky, then pointed away-from-hub. "A long way that way. I've been traveling for moons and moons—must be at least as many as you were a prisoner."

"By yourself? What about your tribe?"

Bugdance grimaced. "Like you, I don't have one, not anymore. That is ... well, what happened was that there was a plague, a sickness. A lot of the tribe died, including all the females. The ones who were left—there were maybe eight and four of us—decided it wasn't much good trying to keep the tribe together as it was. We'd had some wanderers—other elves—come into our territory before. I'm even descended from one. So we decided to scatter and look for other elf tribes. We went out in pairs, but a treefang got Vinejumper not too long after we started. So since then I've only had Nosey for company." He tickled the animal's ear. "He's a pretty good listener, and I talk enough for two, but, well... Anyhow, I just kept walking, but I didn't find any other elves till I ran into that human tribe and happened to spot you." He paused and glanced up at Longshanks. "Matter of fact, I'd almost given up looking. After all, how could there be elves in a land without any trees?"

"Trees? What have trees got to do with anything?"

"What have— Oh, Freebird's nest! Let me show you."

Sending pictures began to flow from his mind to the other elf's. Trees, yes, enormous trees, bigger than any Longshanks had ever seen. A green place, riotous with infinitely varied plant life, warm and moist, loud with bird and animal calls, laced with brown, sluggish waterways. Elves lived there, nesting in the trees like birds, shaping hollows in the great boles, leaping among the branches to gather fruit and shoot down small game with the hollow-grass tubes (they had tiny darts in them, Longshanks realized, though he could not fathom how a missile that small could kill anything), rarely touching ground except to net fish in the brown rivers. This was home, as Bugdance saw it. This was how elves lived.

It was so different from anything Longshanks had ever seen or imagined that he would not have believed it had he not known that sendings cannot lie. He stared at Bugdance for a few moments after the flow of sending stopped. Then, wordlessly, he proffered images of his own.

Endless seas of grass, green-brown in the sun, broken only occasionally by an outcropping or a water hole or a stand of spindly trees. Stalking through the grass to surprise a herd of game, the whirl and cast of the bolas to bring the nearest beast down, then the spear or the knife to finish it off. The Gathering just before the rains began, the whole tribe assembling to celebrate the turn of the year, then scattering again into individual clans to wait out the cold. The shimmer of new green on the plains after the dead brown of winter, the joy of running free, unfettered, swift and tireless as the wind. This was how elves lived, how he had always lived, never knowing there could be any other way. His eyes met Bugdance's and he saw his own astonishment reflected there.

"I knew the wanderers came from other places," the curly-haired elf said softly, "but I never knew they were _that_ other."

"I never even knew there were other places," Longshanks responded. "I guess I never thought about it much. I just kind of figured the plains went on forever."

"I thought the jungle did." They looked at each other for a moment longer. Then Bugdance added, "I wonder what else is out there."

 

"What'cha making?"

Longshanks looked up from his stitching to see Bugdance trotting toward him, with Nosey beside him sniffing at the longears that dangled at the curly-haired elf's waist. Bugdance wasn't much of a hunter yet—or rather, he hadn't yet perfected the style of hunting suitable to the plains, since the poisons he needed for his darts ran low—but he had picked up the art of setting snares very quickly. Between the two of them they had managed to put some meat on the jungle elf's bones. Bugdance had been a bit defensive when Longshanks first noticed his emaciation, but under prodding he admitted he hadn't been keeping himself any too well since he left the jungle behind. He even revealed that he had been following Longshanks' captors for several days, hoping to thieve food from them, before he caught sight of Longshanks.

On the other hand, Longshanks was astonished by the variety of things Bugdance would eat. He himself would never have considered eating insects, but the day they found a termite nest Bugdance happily cracked it open and dipped into it with relish. And while Longshanks tended to think of most herbs and plants as medicinal rather than nutritious, the jungle elf was quick to bite into roots and chew on leaves with all the enthusiasm of a grass-eater. Though Longshanks claimed to prefer good red meat any day, he had to admit Bugdance's diet had variety.

He had been thinking of that while he worked. Now he sat up and tossed a bundle at Bugdance. "Something for you," he responded to the other elf's question, as Bugdance caught the furry object and shook it out. A patchwork pattern of gray and brown and tan and white and cream was revealed, a poncho made of variegated pieces of gopher and longear and antelope and deer hides, bits of all the different catches they had made. Bugdance turned it over in his hands a couple of times, then slipped it over his head. His face emerged from the slit in the top and broke into a grin.

"And something for me," Longshanks continued. He picked up a smaller object from his lap and put it on his head, tugging it down over his thick dark hair. It was a cap with a turned-up rim and a tuft of fur on the top. His slow smile answered Bugdance's. "Now I feel like myself again."

"Oh, really? Who've you been all this time, then? Anybody I know?"

Longshanks touched the cap. "I always wear one of these—always have, since my mother made one out of the skin of the first longears I killed. The humans knocked off my last one and my head's been lonely for it ever since. Ought to be green, but I couldn't get the right dye plants this time of year. It can wait." He looked at Bugdance critically. "Next project is going to be some boots for you."

Bugdance looked pained. "More clothes? Not that I don't like this, you understand—" He held out his arms to display the poncho. "—but aren't it and the leggings enough?"

"Not for White-time, they're not. You'll be happy enough to have something on your feet when the snow falls."

Bugdance dropped on his haunches beside the plains elf. "I still wouldn't believe in snow if you hadn't sent to me about it. Cold white stuff that falls out of the sky like feathers and then just lies there?" He shook his head, smiling. "You sure you didn't drink some bad water someplace?"

"You'll see it for yourself pretty soon. Haven't you noticed it's getting colder at night?"

"Uh-huh. Maybe the clothes aren't such a bad idea at that." Bugdance's voice dropped. "But there are better ways to keep warm at night..."

"What do you mean?"

Bugdance's hand came down on the tall elf's shoulder. "Look, Longshanks, you're a great guy. You're just about the best friend I've ever had. But you, my friend—" A long brown finger jabbed at Longshanks. "—are not what I was looking for when I left the jungle."

Longshanks' eyebrows went up. "I thought you were looking for other elves."

Bugdance rolled his eyes skyward. "I _had_ other elves. Eight and four, remember? But—there—were—no—GIRLS!" He sprang to his feet and peered all around him, one hand shading his eyes. "D'you see any girls around here? I don't see any girls around here. Nosey, d'you see any girls around here?"

Longshanks chuckled. "What do you suggest, I make some out of hides? I'm not a bad tanner, but I don't think I could get 'em that soft."

"Hardly. No, I'm suggesting we go _look_ for some, buzzard-brain! What I was doing in the first place, before I hitched up with you." As Longshanks continued to stare at him, Bugdance dropped down on his haunches again. "Longshanks, think. Here we are, two elves from two completely different tribes. I mean, we are _so_ different—!" He flung his arms wide. "If there could be two elf tribes that far apart in the world, there almost have to be others. They could be anywhere, but they've got to be somewhere. All we have to do is keep looking." He jumped to his feet again and spun around with one arm straight out. "Pick a direction, any direction, and start walking."

"Could take a long time," Longshanks said after a moment.

"Sure it could. You got anything better to do?"

Longshanks thought. "No."

"Then what are we waiting for?"

Longshanks got up. "For a few more good hunts, and for me to finish one more tanning. If we're going to walk far, you're going to want some boots."

* * * * *

"So after I got the boots finished," said Longshanks, "off we went." He pushed his hat back a little and scratched his head. "Don't remember now what direction we picked, do you?" He glanced up at Bugdance.

The curly-haired elf shook his head. "Nope. Didn't make much difference since we kept getting sidetracked every time we hit a river or something."

"Anyhow, we wandered on for ... oh, I guess it was almost a turn—or was it two?" Bugdance shook his head again.

"And I suppose that all during that time you got along perfectly?" Lakebreeze inquired with a hint of irony and a sidelong glance at BlackTalon.

Longshanks snorted. "Hardly! Don't think there's two elves in the world could do that, ’less both of 'em were Halfwise—"

"And he's one of a kind!" Bugdance stated.

"There were all sorts of things we had to get used to," the plains elf went on. "That bondbeast of his, for one. And things like ... oh, when I get tired, I get real quiet. Bugdance, he gets gabby—even more'n usual, that is. Then there was the time he thought I needed cheering up, so he put a spiny-lizard in the bedding..."

"Not the way to do it," Bugdance interjected.

"But we learned," Longshanks continued. "We made allowances. We had to. It was either that or be alone again. I can't tell you how good it was not to be alone. Anyhow, we went on like that, just the two of us, not meeting any other elves or even finding any signs of 'em, till we hit that mountain range. Then came the strangest part of the whole story, I think..."

* * * * *

"Hey, Nosey! Don't go in there! Oh, puckernuts..."

Longshanks looked up from filling his waterskin and saw Bugdance crouched near the tumble of rocks from which the tiny stream issued. "Where's the pest gone this time?" he drawled. They had been scrambling among these bleak, rocky hills for a hand of days, trying to find a way past them and possibly through the higher mountains that reared behind them. During that time the coati found countless holes to poke his long nose into, and what was inside them was not always pleasant.

"Looks like some sort of cave," Bugdance answered. "Nosey, come out of there! D'you want to run into another snake? Oh, fish in a tree, I'd better go in after him."

"Be careful."

Bugdance grinned at his friend. "Aren't I always?"

"No."

The bushy-haired elf snickered. "Look, when I want the truth I'll send for it ... but don't worry. This shouldn't take long. Nosey!" He disappeared between the rocks. Longshanks went back to filling the waterskin.

A moment later he received an excited sending from Bugdance. **Longshanks, come here! Have a look at this!**

Longshanks stood up. **What have you found?**

**It is a cave, a big one! It just keeps going back and back and back. I can't see the end of it.**

**Sounds like a dandy place to get jumped on,** Longshanks warned. **Can you see that ring-tailed pest of yours?**

**No, but I can hear him a little farther on. I think he's paddling around in the stream.** There was a pause, then, **Longshanks, you've got to see this. It just keeps going and going, straight as a dart-shot. I'll bet it goes right through the hill.**

That sparked Longshanks' interest. Bugdance was given to exaggeration even in sending (the only thing Longshanks could figure was that no matter how outrageous the statement was, Bugdance believed it), but if the cave really did go straight through the hill, it could be the way past the hills they were looking for. **Stay where you are,** he sent to Bugdance. **Have you found Nosey yet?**

**Yes, I've got him. Are you coming?**

**I'm coming.** Longshanks slung the waterskin over his shoulder next to his travel pack and scrambled up the slope. The crack between the rocks where the stream flowed out was partly blocked by a large boulder and barely wide enough for him to slip through, but beyond it was an irregular passage that opened out into a cave at least two elf-heights from floor to ceiling and about as wide. The streambed ran through the middle of it and disappeared into a dark tunnel at the far end. Though narrower than the cave, the tunnel's roof was an arm's length above his head, the sides farther apart than his arms could reach. As his eyes adjusted to the faint light that leaked in through the crack, he saw Bugdance standing a little way down the tunnel, holding Nosey in his arms and peering into the darkness beyond.

The jungle elf glanced around as Longshanks approached. "Weird, isn't it?" he said. His voice echoed off the rock walls, above the soft chatter of the stream. "You'd never expect anything this big to be behind that little crack, would you?"

**The entrance might’ve been bigger once before that boulder fell over it,** Longshanks guessed, sending because he didn’t like the way the cave picked up and amplified the other elf's voice. No telling what lived down here that might hear them.

Bugdance nodded. Then he turned and began walking down the tunnel. **Where do you think you're going?** Longshanks demanded.

**To find out where this leads, of course.** Bugdance glanced back over his shoulder. **Aren't you coming?**

**All right,** Longshanks agreed reluctantly. **Stick close and go slow. There might be other passages farther on. We don't want to get lost down here, or fall into a pit or High Ones know what else.**

The two of them proceeded cautiously down the tunnel. The faint light from the entrance was soon left behind, leaving them in darkness even elfin eyes could not penetrate. Bugdance transferred Nosey to his shoulders and joined hands with Longshanks so they could feel their way along, each keeping contact with a wall. The stream ran between them, chattering softly in its rocky bed. The air was dank and still.

**Your hand is sweating,** Bugdance commented after a while.

**I don't like this place,** the plains elf admitted. **I feel like the rock is pressing in on me.**

**D'you want to go back?**

**No. I'll be all right. Let's just get on with it.**

They continued on. Fortunately the tunnel was fairly straight, with a level floor and no side passages. After awhile the noise of the stream became louder. A little farther on Bugdance let out an involuntary yelp and Nosey an indignant chitter as they were doused by falling water. **What is it?** Longshanks asked in alarm.

**Oh, nothing. I just walked into a waterfall, that's all. I needed a bath anyway. I think the stream comes through the roof here.** A quick, groping inspection by both of them found this to be so.

**The tunnel goes straight on, though,** Longshanks observed, feeling his way ahead. **That's strange. I thought the stream had made it.**

**Pretty big tunnel for this little trickle.**

**You'd be surprised how much a little trickle can grow in flood time. But I don't know...** He didn't finish the thought.

They crept on for a while longer. Neither of them could guess how much time had passed in the lightless cave. Longshanks was just beginning to think of calling a halt and resting, though he didn't like the idea of lingering in this hole any longer than absolutely necessary, when he stumbled over something that rolled. The floor had been smooth beneath their feet for so long that it came as a considerable shock. Only Bugdance's firm grip on his hand kept him from falling. As it was, he staggered, and as his other hand flailed out, trying to keep his balance, it met the object he had tripped over, something smooth and rounded. It didn't feel quite like a rock. With a chill sense of foreboding, he stooped, letting go of his friend's hand to examine the object with both of his own. His exploring fingers found two holes where he had instinctively expected them to be, and two ridges on the sides. He shuddered, the chill in his belly growing. **What have you found?** came Bugdance's sending. The other elf had been feeling around on the floor too.

**I think it's a skull ... an elf skull,** Longshanks answered.

**I've found some bones, I think—and this.** A cold, hard object was pressed into Longshanks' hands. Corrosion had roughened its surface and blunted its edge, but the shape of a blade was unmistakable. Longshanks wasn't sure if it was a spearhead or a knife. It seemed too large and heavy for an elf to wield, strangely heavy for its size. When he dropped it, it fell with a soft clank that was weirdly magnified by the surrounding stone.

**I knew there was a reason I didn't like this place,** the plains elf sent, straightening. **Let's get out of here.**

**You mean go back?**

Longshanks thought of the long, lightless trail behind them and shook his head vehemently. **Not if we can help it. The other end should be nearer, if there is an other end. Come on.** Grabbing Bugdance's hand, he pressed forward into the darkness, feeling cautiously with his feet for any further obstacles. There were a few dry, sticklike things that crunched beneath the soles of his leather boots, but he tried to think about them as little as possible.

To both elves' relief, it was not long before Bugdance sent exultantly, **Light! I see light up ahead!** It was only a speck at first, but it grew larger and brighter as they hurried toward it. At last it could be plainly distinguished as sunlight. A cool, sweetly scented breeze touched their faces. Feeling all the more constricted by the dark rock tunnel, Longshanks broke into a run, followed closely by Bugdance. The plains elf's natural caution caught up with him, however, as he neared the tunnel's mouth. He halted just inside the entrance and peered out. Bugdance heard him gasp. **What is it?** he sent.

**Look. Look for yourself.** Longshanks moved aside to let the other elf see past him.

The scene before them was one of breathtaking beauty. Steep wooded slopes reared on all sides of a narrow green valley. Below them a calm lake glinted jewel-blue in the rays of the afternoon sun. On the far side rose the mountains, snow-capped and majestic. Where they stood among the tumbled boulders at the cavern's mouth the trees were sparse, slender aspens with leaves that quivered in the slightest breeze, but farther down the slope the woods became thicker, an unbroken canopy of shifting green. Bugdance felt homesickness well up in him at the sight of so many trees. The air was cool and sweet, and there were birds singing.

"By the lost dwellings of the High Ones!" Longshanks exclaimed softly and reverently.

"Do you really think so?" Bugdance asked.

"No, I didn't mean that—look!" The plains elf suddenly gripped his friend's arm and pointed off to their right. There, from the slopes at the head of the valley, rose a cluster of stone spires. They varied in height, some barely clearing the treetops while others overtopped them by many elf-heights, and in shape, some smooth and arrow-straight, some sculpted into graceful spirals and turrets and minarets, but none, it was certain, had been carved by the natural forces of wind and water.

"It _does_ look like the lost dwellings of the High Ones," Bugdance whispered.

"I don't know about that," Longshanks replied, "but somebody sure made those towers."

"Elves, d'you think? Other elves?"

"Could be." The plains elf took a cautious step out of the mouth of the cave. "I guess we better go find out."

The sun had sunk behind the hills before they reached the cluster of towers. The upper slopes were steep and had to be traversed with care. Once they got to the deeper woods, Bugdance could not resist taking to the trees. Longshanks watched him in amazement as he leaped and swung among the branches as nimbly as a treewee, while the coati scampered in his wake. The plains elf felt as if he were seeing his friend clearly for the first time. It was like seeing a bird that was scratching prosaically away on the ground suddenly take wing.

Bugdance's impulse turned out to be a good move. Without some way to take bearings every so often, the two elves would soon have lost their way under the forest canopy, out of sight of the sky. But from the tops of occasional trees, Bugdance could keep the stone spires in view.

Though they saw a good many birds and a few small animals on the way, they found no sign of other elves. As they got nearer the spires, Bugdance reported that some of them seemed to be cracked or broken. That did not sound encouraging, but Longshanks tried a broadsending once they were within range. He got no response. Neither did Bugdance when he tried. A little farther on, however, they found a circular patch of forest where the trees were thinner, ringed by forest giants that Bugdance could tell immediately had been shaped once upon a time. Climbing among the branches of one of them, he soon found a hollow in the trunk. He disappeared into it for a moment, then popped out his curly head. "It's a hometree, all right," he declared, "but it can't have been used for turns upon turns. The hollow's so full of mould you could practically grow another tree in it." He shook his head sadly. "I think if there were elves here once, they've been gone for a long, long time."

At last they reached the cluster of spires. Among the feet of the towers, hidden till now by the thick trees, were many smaller stone structures. Most of them were in ruins, but some still had standing walls in which doors and windows could be seen, ornamented with gracefully sculpted sills and frames. All were cracked and weathered by the passage of time; many were nearly invisible under mats of vines and creepers. Flights of broken stairs wound among broad terraces where the paving stones had been pushed apart by once eager saplings now grown into trees. Longshanks and Bugdance wandered through the ruined city, torn between awe and melancholy by these evidences of what was probably the work of others of their kind, long since vanished from the world.

"What do you think happened to them all?" Bugdance asked Longshanks that evening. They had found a camping place some distance from the ruins, amid a grove of small, gnarled trees that bore sweetly scented pink and white blossoms. The moons were up and the flowers seemed luminous in their silver light.

Longshanks shook his head. "Who knows? Could've been disease, like your tribe—could've been anything. But I think maybe they were attacked. Remember what we found in the tunnel?" Bugdance nodded. "Could be some of them tried to get out that way and were caught. Or maybe the attackers got in that way and the elves were fighting to keep 'em out. Guess we'll never know for sure." He yawned and stretched. "Mmmm. It's been quite a day. Do you want to take first watch, or shall I?"

Bugdance had just opened his mouth to answer when an impossibly high and piercing voice shrilled, "Ooo! Highthings! Highthings come!"

The elves jumped. Bugdance whipped around, half rising, and both of them stared in the direction of the voice. Perched on a limb of a nearby tree was a winged creature that resembled a large butterfly. But as they looked at it more closely they could see that the yellow and green shaded wings sprang from a body not unlike an elf's in shape, though it too was bright green. The creature's eyes were large and protruding and it wore a tiny cap made of green leaves. As they gaped at it, it left the branch to hover over their heads.

"Highthings gone long time," it chided. "Flitterleaf wait. Softpretty highthing say, 'Keep softhead highthing safe till other highthings come let out.' Flitterleaf do! Flitterleaf wait long time for highthings." It sounded accusing. "Flitterleaf wait and wait!" Suddenly it darted toward Bugdance, grabbed a lock of his bushy hair and tugged. "Highthings come! Highthings come let softhead highthing out! Come now! Flitterleaf say so!"

"Hey!" Bugdance yelped, batting at the winged creature. "Stop it! Let go of me! Longshanks, what in the name of the High Ones—"

"I don't know any more about it than you do," Longshanks answered, stifling a grin, "but I think it wants us to follow it somewhere."

"What could a talking bug want with us?" The creature had let go of Bugdance's hair and was circling around their heads again. Nosey regarded it suspiciously.

Longshanks shrugged. "Why don't we follow it and find out? It looks harmless enough."

"Harmless!" Bugdance rubbed his scalp, glaring at his winged tormentor. "Let it pull your hair next time."

"Highthings come!" the creature shrilled imperiously.

"All right, we're coming, we're coming!" Bugdance said quickly, holding up his hands to ward off further attacks on his hair.

The two elves set off after the tiny being, the coati scampering after them. It led them through the forest, away from the ruins, darting in and out among the trees, but stopping every so often to let them catch up. After a little while they began to go uphill. Finally they came to an outcropping of rock, spotted with lichen and moss and half-covered with creepers. The tiny creature alit above a large vertical crack in the rock and pointed down into it. "Softhead highthing in here. Let highthing out!"

Longshanks and Bugdance peered into the crack, which was just about elf-size. It was filled with a white mass of what looked like spider silk. "It looks like a great big cocoon," said Bugdance. "Like caterpillars make? But I'd hate to imagine the size of the butterfly..."

"Let highthing out!" the creature insisted once more.

Longshanks prodded the silk cautiously. "There does seem to be something wrapped in this."

"Yes, yes, is wrapstuff! Highthings cut wrapstuff—careful, careful! Let softhead highthing out!"

Bugdance's mouth fell open. He stared at the bug and then at Longshanks. "'Highthings'... Longshanks, I think it's trying to say there's an elf in here!"

"Aw, come on! What would an elf be doing wrapped up in silk, unless—" The lanky elf looked over his shoulder uneasily. "I'd hate to see the size of the _spider_..."

"Let highthing out!"

"I think we'd better do what the bug says," Bugdance ventured. "But hurry!"

The two elves drew their knives and went carefully to work, slicing at the white, sticky strands and keeping a wary eye out over their shoulders for possible monster spiders. Nosey sniffed interestedly at the cocoon, his long nose twitching.

"I've got a hand!" Bugdance exclaimed suddenly. Longshanks looked where his companion was pointing and saw a four-fingered, indisputably elfin hand amid the white strands. They went to work again and soon uncovered the rest of the arms, crossed over the breast of the enveloped elf. They dropped their knives and began to clear the silk away with their hands. A face appeared, soft and rather childlike in its repose, though judging by his size and build, the elf was a youth rather than a child. He had straight, light brown hair, about jaw-length, and a fair complexion. His ears, Longshanks noticed, were smaller than his own or Bugdance's, though the same shape. He seemed to be asleep. As the breeze ruffled his hair, however, he breathed deeply and stirred. His lips moved. "What did he say?" Bugdance asked.

"I'm not sure." Longshanks held up one hand for silence as the young elf murmured again. This time the word was audible.

"Mother?" The elf's head moved to one side, then the other. His hands came up to touch his face, wiping at the few sticky strands that clung there. "Mother, are they gone? How long did I sleep?" He tried to move his legs, but they were still cocooned in white silk. His eyes flew open, and he gasped as he saw the forms of Longshanks and Bugdance stooping over him. "Who are you?" he cried out fearfully. "You're not my mother!"

"Calm down there, young fellow," Longshanks soothed. "We're elves. We won't hurt you. Hold still while we get the rest of this goop off you." He and Bugdance ripped at the webbing that confined the young elf's legs until they were able to pull him free. He staggered against them, unsteady on his feet.

"Who are you?" he asked again. "Where's my mother?"

Longshanks and Bugdance looked at each other, uncertain how to answer. Flitterleaf did it for them. "Softpretty highthing gone," it crooned mournfully from its perch on the rock. "Gone stillquiet long, long time."

"Flitterleaf!" The young elf looked up at the tiny creature, which fluttered over to alight on his shoulder. "Am I glad to see you! But mother ... stillquiet? Do you mean she's—dead?" Tears welled up in his brown eyes. "Dead," he whispered, looking stricken. "No, she can't be. Mother!" he cried, then stood still as a stone, eyes staring into nothing. Neither of the others could catch the sending; it was obviously a special call. Just as obviously it received no answer. The young elf slumped to his knees, his hands going over his face. His shoulders quivered.

Longshanks and Bugdance stood silent, unwilling to intrude on his grief, but finally Longshanks laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. "We shouldn't stay here too long. If that spider comes back—"

The young elf looked up at him, startled. "Spider? What spider?"

"The one that wrapped you up. Maybe you don't remember—"

"That wrapped me up... A spider didn't wrap me up. That was Flitterleaf. To keep me safe from the trolls. Mother told it to. She said someone would come later and let me out. Is that why you're here? Did they send you to get me?"

"Nobody sent us," Bugdance answered. "We came here on our own. Where did _you_ come from?"

"I didn't come from anywhere. I live here."

They stared at him. "You live here?" Bugdance repeated disbelievingly. "But nobody lives here now. We've been looking." He waved his arms. "The whole place is deserted, looks like it has been for eights upon eights upon eights..."

Longshanks held up a hand to silence his friend, seeing the young elf's stricken face. "How long ago was it that you went to sleep here?" he asked gently.

"I don't know. Mother had the Preserver put me in wrapstuff. That stops time, you know." Longshanks didn't, but managed to conceal his surprise. "But she said someone would come to let me out. They can't all have gone away and forgotten about me..."

"Maybe they couldn't come back," Longshanks said. "We think they may all have been killed, or had to run away. There may have been a battle—"

"There _was_ a battle," said the young elf. "It was trolls. They attacked the city. My father went out to fight them—he's the lord of the valley—but he didn't come back. Then Mother brought me here and told me to go to sleep..." He trailed off, looking about helplessly. "They can't _all_ be gone," he said finally.

"I'm afraid they are," Longshanks told him. "I think you've been asleep here for a long time. Look, why don't you come with us? We have a camp over that way. We can give you something to eat, all right?" The young elf nodded, looking dazed. He let the two of them help him to his feet and lead him back to their camp. Flitterleaf followed them, Nosey still eyeing it with distrust.

**Well, Bugdance, you were right,** Longshanks locksent to his friend as they walked. **There are other elves in the world.**

**Or were,** Bugdance answered. **Pity he's not a girl.** He paused, then added, **I wonder what 'trolls' are.**

**Beats me.**

Back at the camp, the two of them took the opportunity to study their find as they sat him down and dug into their packs for the dried meat from their last hunt. The young elf turned it over in his hands for a moment as if he had never seen meat before, but he bit into it willingly enough. Longshanks noticed that his hands were as fair-skinned as his face, soft and free from the calluses he and Bugdance both bore. _As if he never had to do a lick of work in his life,_ the plains elf thought.

His clothing was odd, too. He had on a closefitting tunic and breeches and high boots. The tunic had winglike shoulder pieces, and there was an undertunic with long, full sleeves caught up in bands at the wrist. His boots were of soft leather, the finest Longshanks had ever seen, but the rest of his clothing was woven. Bugdance's loincloth had been woven, and he had explained a bit about weaving to Longshanks, but neither of them had ever seen cloth as fine as this. The undertunic especially was almost too light to be believed, and the moonslight picked out patterns of leaves woven into the cloth itself. Even the heavier fabric of tunic and breeches had a sheen to it. Around the young elf's neck was an intricately ornamented ring of the shiny yellow substance Longshanks had seen the humans trade for sometimes. He knew they considered it very precious.

He waited until the young elf finished eating and began to lose his dazed expression. Bugdance was busy feeding Nosey the last few scraps of meat. Longshanks squatted down next to their new companion and said, "Well now, how about telling us something about yourself? What's your name, for starters?"

The other elf's open, innocent face turned to his. "I'm Piet," he said.

"Komei's bones!" Longshanks rocked back on his heels as Bugdance stared at both of them in shock. "I wasn't asking for your soul name, youngster!"

The young elf looked confused. "But that's my name."

"I know, but..." Longshanks stared at the finely clad youth. Had his tribe, the dwellers in this secluded valley, been so sheltered and secure, so trusting of one another, that they could speak their souls aloud without fear? **Look,** he told the young elf, sending to be sure his meaning and the seriousness behind his words was clear, **I don't know what your people may have done, but outside ... you just _don't_ go blurting out your soul name. Not to anybody. Your parents will know it, and your lifemate if you're Recognized, but no one else. If you tell it to someone, it means you trust him with your deepest inmost self, with all that you are.** _And I'm not sure I want that kind of responsibility,_ he thought.

Piet looked bewildered. "Oh. But what do you call each other, then?"

"We have tribe-names instead. I'm called Longshanks, and this here is Bugdance." The bushy-haired elf flashed a grin and flapped a hand at them. "As for you..." Longshanks studied the young elf for a moment, then reached out to touch his neck-ring with one finger. "What's this thing?"

"That's my torc. My father made it for me." There was a touch of pride in the answer.

"All right, that'll do for now. We'll call you Torc."

 

Later that night, while Longshanks stood watch, gazing out over the tops of the flowering trees to where the towers of the dead city gleamed bone-white in the moonslight, he heard a soft sniffling behind him. His eyes flicked over to the sleeping form of Bugdance, who was curled up around Nosey. He knew the jungle elf often twitched or murmured in his sleep, never quite at rest even then, but his friend seemed quiescent for the moment. The noise came from the other elf, Piet—no, Torc, he reminded himself. The youth lay on his back, looking up at the sky, and Longshanks caught the telltale glimmer of tears on his pale face. He crossed over to the young elf and knelt down beside him. "Hey," he said gently, "what's the matter?"

Tear-filled brown eyes met his. "They're all gone," Piet whispered. "Mother, father, all of them gone. I'm all alone." His expression was that of a hurt and frightened child. Tears trickled from his eyes, but he made no move to brush them away.

Longshanks laid a hand on the young elf's shoulder and gripped it. "Come on now, youngster, no you're not. You got Bugdance and me now. We'll take care of you."

Piet sniffled. "You will?"

"'Course we will. You didn't think we were just going to leave you here, did you?"

The young elf looked at him for a moment, then flung his arms around Longshanks's neck, sobbing against his shoulder. The lanky elf patted him awkwardly on the back, a little embarrassed by this excess of emotion. "Come on now, little fella, don't cry. Everything'll be all right. You just come along with us. Bugdance 'n' me, we're looking for other elves—looking to find us some girls. When we do, maybe there'll be one for you, too."

"G-girls?" Piet gulped, raising his head.

"Sure. You do know what girls are, don't you?" The young elf nodded. "Good. We'll find you one, then. There's got to be more elf tribes out there somewhere. You'll see."

"O-out there? You're going—Outside?" Piet looked into Longshanks' face anxiously. "But it's dangerous out there. Bad. Father always said so."

"Hey, it's not that bad. Bugdance and me came from out there. You'll be safe with us." He patted Piet's shoulder. "Now, you go on back to sleep and we'll talk about it some more in the morning. Okay?"

Piet nodded obediently, lay down again and closed his eyes. Longshanks glanced over and saw a wide-awake Bugdance regarding him with a crooked grin. **And if _you've_ got any objections, bug-brain,** the plains elf sent, **you can keep 'em to yourself.**

Bugdance shrugged. **Who's objecting?** His gaze shifted to Piet, who was already asleep, traces of tears still shining on his young face. **I always wanted a baby brother,** the jungle elf mused.

The corner of Longshanks' mouth twitched. **Yeah, he is like that, isn't he? Wonder if he's always been that way, or if being asleep that long ... did something to him.**

**Maybe all the elves who lived here were like him,** Bugdance offered.

Longshanks snorted. **And made _that_?** He jerked his head toward the ruined city.

**Guess not.** Bugdance cocked an eye at the moons and sat up. **My turn to watch. You get some sleep. Tomorrow we can start figuring out where we go from here.**

* * * * *

BlackTalon stirred and said thoughtfully, "So that's what Halfwise meant when he said he'd been asleep for a long time."

"And that's where you got the bug," Blaze said, peering interestedly at Flitterleaf.

"Flitterleaf's not a bug," Halfwise corrected. "It's a Preserver. We used to have a lot of them in the Hidden Valley."

"I wonder what happened to the rest of them," Bugdance mused. "Anyway, this one attached itself to Halfwise and there wasn't a lot we could do about it."

"Flitterleaf always take care of softhead highthing," the Preserver piped staunchly. "Softpretty highthing say so!"

Blaze snickered. "'Softhead highthing,' huh? But wait a moment, didn't you say his name was Torc? How did you end up with 'Halfwise'?"

Bugdance and Longshanks exchanged a look. "That was kind of weird, too," Longshanks said. "Bugdance came up with it after we found out a few things about our young friend."

"Tell 'em about the avalanche," Bugdance suggested. "That was what really tipped us off."

"Yeah. After we got out of the Hidden Valley—same way we came in, there wasn't any other entrance—we finally found that pass through the mountains we'd been looking for. It didn't look too tough, either, so we started to climb. We had Halfwise, or Torc, as we were calling him then, in between us. All of a sudden he stops dead and won't go another step."

"Surprised the batdung out of us," Bugdance supplied, "'cause usually he'd do whatever you told him to."

"But not this time," Longshanks continued. "He kept saying, 'Something's wrong. We mustn't go up there. It's dangerous. Something bad will happen.' We couldn't figure out what he was talking about. It was a clear path, no sign of anything waiting to jump on us and no brush for anything to hide in. We kept asking him what the danger was, but he couldn't tell us."

"And in the meantime we're standing there with the wind cutting straight through our clothes, not a tree in sight, practically freezing to death..."

"Finally I got so mad I started climbing," Longshanks remembered. "Figured I'd show him there was nothing wrong. Well, he grabbed onto me and wouldn't let go. He was shivering and crying—you could tell he was really spooked. I'll tell you, I wasn't sure whether I wanted to comfort him or clout him. Just then we began to hear a rumbling 'way off. Then the ground started to shake—"

"And FOOM!" Bugdance threw his arms out. "No more pass. Full of snow and rock. Buried. Gone! And we would've been, too, if we'd been maybe one or two easy jumps farther on. Once the dust settled, we both turned around and asked him, 'How did you _know_?' And he still couldn't tell us."

"I just knew," said Halfwise.

Longshanks reached over and ruffled his friend's sandy hair. "That's the way it is. Our little brother may seem a mite soft in the head sometimes, like Flitterleaf says, but there's something up there that knows things even if it doesn't know why. It's saved our lives more'n once. Anyway, that's how we came up with the name. Seemed to fit."

Windrunner nodded thoughtfully. "All right. That's three so far." He looked over at Heartseeker. "What about you?"

"I came in a bit later," the small elf said. "I used to live in a tribe not too different from this—" He indicated their surroundings with a gesture. "—though it wasn't so hot where we were. But that Longsun I was on my own..."

* * * * *

The woodland pool was an idyllic place. A tiny stream trickled down a gray rock face softened by feathery clumps of fern and thick mats of dark green ivy, falling with barely a ripple into a natural stone bowl. The larger forest trees stood back from it, allowing the sun to glimmer on the pool's calm surface and encourage the smaller flowering shrubs and herbs to grow in sweet-smelling abundance. On the far side of the pool the stream flowed out again over the mossy lip of the bowl and went murmuring softly away between the trees.

The small elf making his careful way down the rock face was not blind to the beauty of the spot, for he greatly appreciated beauty in all its forms. After clambering down the last few feet to the edge of the pool, he stood for a moment breathing deeply and looked around in satisfaction before stooping to drink from the falling stream. He took a good long drink, for the day was hot and he had been exerting himself. After quenching his thirst, he knelt by the pool to splash cool water on his face, then proceeded to scrub at the red stains on his hands and forearms.

Heartseeker didn't really mind the scut work associated with hunting, except that it was messy. Besides the fact that it was never a good idea to go wandering around the forest smelling of blood, he liked to keep his appearance neat. For that reason he usually left the task of butchering a catch to others when he could. No chance of that now, though. He was on his own. _With no one to care what you look like, Daivi,_ he told himself, _except you._

The elfin hunter sighed and peered down at the spatters of blood on his fur-trimmed leather vest. Those should come off, too. He might even take a quick bath, he thought. It would feel good in this heat. He sat down and began to tug at one of his knee-high boots.

Just then he heard rustling from the forest beyond the pool, and the unmistakable sound of voices. Heartseeker sprang to his feet, cursing himself for a careless fool. He had been so occupied with scrubbing himself that he had let a bunch of five-fingers sneak up on him. A glance around increased his alarm. The rock face behind him barred a rapid escape that way, and the forest on either side was too far away to offer quick concealment. The small elf drew his short sword with a sinking heart. He could hear at least three different voices—

—and they were speaking elvish.

"I just don't understand why we're going _up_ stream. Why d'you want to go _up_ stream?" A light, quick, husky voice.

"Now, Bugdance, I've told you before, when there's humans around you'll 'most always find 'em _down_ stream," another voice answered in slower, drawling tones. "That was a humans' firepit we found back there, so till I know this place better I'm not taking any chances."

"Are humans as bad as trolls?" asked a third voice.

"Well now, Halfwise, that's kind of a hard question. For one thing, there's humans and humans, and for another thing, I've never seen a troll. I'm not even sure what they—Komei's bones!"

Heartseeker found himself face to face with the owner of the drawling voice as they gazed at each other across the several elf-lengths that separated the pool from the forest's edge. The small elf's grip on his sword tightened momentarily, for tallness was a trait he usually associated with humans, and this elf was one of the tallest he'd ever seen, except perhaps for his uncle Treetall. Of course, most of the elves in his tribe were taller than Heartseeker.

The tall elf held up his hands placatingly. "Hey, we're friendly!"

"Oh, sorry." Heartseeker lowered the blade. "You startled me, that's all." At the sound of his voice, two more curious elfin faces appeared, one peeping from behind the tall elf and one looking out from the branches above his head.

"Who's that?"

"Hey, it's another elf! Maybe he knows where the girls are!" The bushy-haired elf in the tree leapt down and landed next to the tall one. "Hi there!" he said cheerily to Heartseeker. "D'you live around here?"

"Not exactly..."

"Does your tribe live around here? Can you take us to your tribe? Have you got any—"

" _Hold_ it, Bugdance!" the tall elf interrupted. "Give the boy a chance!"

Heartseeker bristled. "I'm not a boy!" His small size and round-cheeked, youthful appearance had been the butt of enough teasing in the past that they were rather a sore point with him.

The elf called Bugdance gave him a surprised look. "Well, you're certainly not a _girl_..." he said dubiously, his gaze dropping from Heartseeker's face to his bare chest. Disarmed by his obvious confusion, the small elf chuckled and broke into a grin.

"Look, why don't I introduce us?" the tall elf said. "I'm called Longshanks, and this is Bugdance, and this young fella—" He took his other companion's arm and drew him forward. "—is Halfwise." As Halfwise offered the stranger a shy smile, a tiny green winged shape fluttered up from its perch on the sandy-haired elf's travel pack to settle on his head and peer curiously at Heartseeker.

"Ooo! Smalldark highthing!" it shrilled. "Hello! Hello!"

Heartseeker stared at the tiny creature. "What's that?"

Halfwise went slightly cross-eyed as he attempted to see the top of his head. "That's Flitterleaf."

"And there's one more in the party," Longshanks added. "Where's he got to, Bugdance?"

"He's climbing down the tree," the bushy-haired elf answered. "Here he comes. Hurry up, Nosey." He scooped up the coati and set him on his shoulder, then grinned at Heartseeker, spreading his arms. "This is it."

Heartseeker regarded them curiously, one hand on his hip. "Where did you all come from?"

Longshanks began, "Well, that's kind of a long story..."

"...and this is no place to stand round and listen to it," Heartseeker agreed. "Tell you what—I brought down a deer this morning, and there's no one to eat it but me. Join me?" He gestured up the face of the rock, toward his camp in the deeper woods.

The lanky elf smiled. "That sounds great. Lead the way ... what's your name, anyway?"

"Oh, sorry. I'm called Heartseeker. I'll tell you why later, in exchange for _your_ story."

 

The wanderers found that tales came much more easily around the coals of a small campfire, with stomachs comfortably full and a pouch of dreamberries being passed around. Sitting with his back to a huge old oak, with his hands behind his head and his long legs stretched out in front of him, Longshanks told the story of how the three elves had met and some of the adventures they'd had along the way. Bugdance lay on his stomach along a branch of the same tree, a little above his companion's head, tossing down comments and the occasional acorn or overripe berry. Halfwise sat cross-legged on the ground near Longshanks and listened as attentively as if he had never heard any of it before, until Nosey got tired of begging scraps from Bugdance and decided to come down and lick Halfwise's face instead. The young elf ended up flat on his back with the coati on top of him, giggling helplessly. Flitterleaf flew in circles around both of them, scolding, "Wrigglenose fur-thing quit playgames with softhead highthing, or Flitterleaf fill long nose with much wrapstuff!" Watching, listening, Heartseeker felt himself drawn to these three diverse strangers from far-off places as if he had known them all his life.

When Longshanks at length brought his tale down to the present day and reached for the dreamberries again, washing them down with a swig from his waterskin, Bugdance glanced over at Heartseeker and said, "What about you? Are you out here all by yourself? What happened to your tribe?"

"Nothing," Heartseeker answered. "As far as I know, they're fine."

"As far as you know?"

"Well, I haven't seen them for awhile. More than a season."

Bugdance cocked his curly head at the small elf. "What did you do, lose 'em?" He sat up and began to root through his travel pack, which hung from a convenient branch. “'Let me see, I _know_ I put that tribe in here someplace...'”

Heartseeker let out a snort of laughter. "No, no, nothing like that! I just left, that's all."

"You left your tribe!" exclaimed Longshanks. "Why?"

"Same reason you're out here. I'm looking for a girl."

"Rafel's stones! Weren't there any girls in your tribe either?" Bugdance asked incredulously.

"Oh, there were _girls_ ," Heartseeker answered, a wistful look in his deep brown eyes. "But none of them was _the_ girl. I found that out the hard way.

"Sungold..." he mused. "She was the first one, my first love. Golden hair down to here, and the most beautiful blue eyes you've ever seen. I was hardly more than a cub and she wasn't much older, but I knew she was the one. I was going to ask her to lifemate with me. Then one day she asked to meet me by the spring and told me she'd just Recognized Keeneye. So they lifemated." He shrugged philosophically. "I figured it was the will of the High Ones.

"Then there was Flame-Arrow," he went on dreamily. "Slender as a willow-wand, hair like fire, one of the best archers in the tribe. She started out teaching me hunting and we ended up teaching each other a few things." He sighed. "Then one day we were out on a hunt and found ourselves tracking the same deer as Bear-Slayer. They were arguing over whose arrow killed the beast—she had a temper, Flame-Arrow did!—when suddenly their eyes met and—" He brought his hands together with a smack. Halfwise jumped.

Heartseeker continued. "Finally I thought I had it made." He held up two fingers. "Two lovemates at once, Sweetberry and Darkriver. They were soulsisters," he added hastily. "We were going to make it a three-mating. But then—"

"Aw, come on!" Bugdance interrupted. "You're not going to tell us _both_ of them—"

Heartseeker nodded mournfully. "Within an eightday of each other. They did everything together, you know."

"I don't _believe_ this!" Bugdance exclaimed. "It's like you live under a curse!"

"Don't I know it! Well, after that I decided the High Ones were trying to tell me something. Once might be chance, twice could be coincidence, but that third time convinced me." His brown eyes took on a faraway look. "I know she's out there somewhere ... the girl of my dreams, the girl the High Ones meant for me, and me for her. But she's not in my tribe. So I left. And someday I'll find her!" he declared.

Bugdance regarded the small elf quizzically, his chin on his folded hands. "It does sound like we're all looking for the same thing. But listen—you could at least introduce us to your tribe. The girl of _your_ dreams might not be there, but one of us might have better luck."

"Maybe," Heartseeker admitted, "but ... well..." A flush began to creep over his face. "I sort of got lost. I never did have a very good sense of direction, and then there was a storm, and a flood, and... I did try to go back once, 'cause I got so lonely," he confessed, "but I couldn't find them. I looked and looked, but the longer I looked the more confused I got. So I gave up. Since then I've just been wandering, hoping to meet ... someone."

"Well," Longshanks said quietly, "seems like you have." Heartseeker gave him a surprised glance. "The three of us may not be exactly who you were looking for," the plains elf went on, "but then, none of us were looking for each other." He spread his hands. "But here we are.

"It's like Bugdance said, we're all looking for the same thing. Not just girls. That's part of it, sure. But finding the right girl, finding your lifemate, means finding a home, a family of your own, a tribe. That's something none of us have right now. That's what we're really looking for. But till we find it, well—" He glanced around at the other three, a slow smile spreading across his face. "—it's good to have friends."

Heartseeker's smile answered his. "Yeah. It is."

"Mm-hm," Bugdance agreed. "Means you have somebody to trade off watches with." He reached down with one agile foot and snatched Longshanks' cap off his head. "Toss you for it," he offered to Heartseeker with a grin, flipping the cap up into the air out of Longshanks' reach and catching it in one hand. "Last one to grab it before Longshanks does loses."

"You're on!"

* * * * *

Heartseeker looked over at Windrunner and spread his hands. "That's the story. Since then, it's been the four of us. We've been through some tough times..." He grinned suddenly. "Like when it's Bugdance's turn to cook."

"Hey!"

Heartseeker glanced up at his curly-haired friend. "Well, you've got to admit it's always an adventure."

"You just wait till next time, short stuff," Bugdance threatened, pointing a finger at the small elf. "Halfwise says there's _lots_ of new plants around here."

"All right, cut it out, you two," Longshanks drawled. He looked over at Lakebreeze. "We do have our differences sometimes. But mostly ... we get along."

BlackTalon sat up. "Thank you for the story, all of you." She fixed Blaze and Lakebreeze each with her gaze in turn. "Now, if elves as different as these four can be such good friends, don't you think you two could at least settle _your_ differences?"

Blaze looked at Lakebreeze. Lakebreeze returned his gaze thoughtfully.

"No!" they said in unison. Then they got up and walked off in opposite directions. Windrunner's head sank into his hands. BlackTalon closed her eyes and began counting to eight.

Bugdance's cheery voice floated down from the branch. "Well, at least they agree on _something_." Both chieftains glanced up at him. He spread his hands and grinned at them. "It's a start."

Windrunner rose with a rueful smile. "Maybe so. Thanks for your help, anyway. I enjoyed the story. And ... I hope you can find what you're looking for here with us."

"If we don't, it won't be for lack of trying." Bugdance's eyes glinted. "I've never _seen_ so many girls!"

Windrunner laughed and moved toward BlackTalon. "Just remember which ones are taken," he reminded them. He took his lifemate's arm and the two chieftains walked off in the direction of their hometree.

Halfwise was still looking back and forth along the divergent paths Blaze and Lakebreeze had taken. "Don't those two elves like each other?" he asked at last with a worried frown.

"Doesn't look that way," said Longshanks. "But don't you worry about it, Halfwise. If they can't figure out what they're missing, well ... it's their loss."

"Yeah." Bugdance swung down from the tree and clapped Halfwise on the shoulder. "C'mon, little brother, let's go finish tying up those hammocks, okay?" He threw a glance at Heartseeker. "Hey, Heartseeker, ever try making it in a hammock? It's great—real bouncy."

"Is that so? When did you find that out, bug-brain?"

"I'll tell you sometime, if you're good."

The banter went on. Longshanks leaned back against the tree, taking up his work again. _Don't know what they're missing,_ he mused, shaking his head ruefully at the absent Blaze and Lakebreeze. _Don't know what they're missing at all._


End file.
